Eyes of a Sinless Warrior
by Fatherz
Summary: FMP Altaverse: What if Sousuke joined Gauron? Based on FMP: The Second Raid. Here's a glimpse of what Gauron really thought when he gazed at the eyes of 'Kashim'. Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Chapter 1 Part 1 is now posted.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Full Metal Panic doesn't belong to me. This story wasn't made for profit. Blah blah blah... ON WITH THE STORY!

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The barren desert was a tough place to live in. Harsh winds blew over jagged cliffs and dry, sandy dunes. Scorching rays of sunlight ruthlessly turn the land into a proverbial oven. The arid wastes deceive the unwary with their illusions until the reckless traveler wither away, mere husks after the vultures are done pecking their flesh away. It is an environment that forcefully applies the laws of nature. Each component of this land is attuned to what is essential: Survival. 

It is hard to imagine people living within this wasteland. Yet, it is harder still to fathom that people also fight for these lands.

This is, perhaps, the reason why a certain mercernary is now in the area, trying to find an answer to this mystery. Driving a four wheel drive jeep, the man surveyed the rolling dunes with somewhat crazed eyes. The desert seemed to shift and move, like a living being ready to consume anyone who doesn't remain vigilant.

However, the man knows his trade well. A moment of inattention could cost him his life, so he maintained a watchful eye for anything. This is perhaps the reason why he instantly noticed a column of smoke rising from his left. The mercenary, deciding to investigate this curiousity, soon wheeled his vehicle towards the direction of the smoke.

Of course, it is common knowledge that when there is smoke, there is most certainly a fire.

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**Eyes of a Sinless Warrior**

_A Full Metal Panic altaverse fic by Fatherz_

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The fatigue clad mercenary soon arrived at the edge of a cliff, overviewing the vicinity of the smolder filled area. Though the sight would have been considered disturbing by some people, the battle hardened mercenary was non-plussed by what he is seeing. 

Amidst the wreckage of vehicles and weapons, the landscape was also littered with the bodies of the dead. Craters pockmarked with shells and explosives blemish the yellow sands with streaks of charcoal black. Splotches of crimson and maroon stain the valley floor amongst the lifeless remains of combatants from both sides. Vultures circled overhead detecting the stench of blood while the bolder ones decided to land, and peck at the remains of the deceased, like the scavengers that they are.

The sight once again made him think of why anyone would bother to fight for this patch of dirt. Digressing into such unimportant matters, the man decided to survey the valley further. He noticed something peculiar in the carnage, an unlikely sight in this war torn landscape.

A boy... a mere child... piling some of the corpses into a burning pile. This action, in itself, isn't surprising to the merc. The way the boy shouldered a rifle didn't even make him bat an eyelash, he knew a few kids drawn within conflicts across the world. No, it wasn't any of those things that stood out, but rather it was whenever the mercenary would catch a glimpse of the boy's eyes.

Eyes that betrayed no emotion.

Eyes that held no conscience.

Eyes that perceive no wrong.

Eyes so full of innocence.

The battle hardened mercenary has never seen anything so... divine... in his life. He has learned to judge a person through their 'windows of the soul'. Most of those eyes he has seen were tainted by sentiment, principles, and sin that betrayed Man into being a creature of imperfection. This state of concern for those around Man has left him without worry for what is truly important.

And, to the mercenary, that one important thing is his proof of existence... his survival.

Perhaps this essential need to live is the reason people would bother to defend these lands. The desert has toughened the inhabitants to the point that certain necessities became absolutely unnecessary. It has become a... refuge... a barren Eden, of sorts.

In searching for an explanation to a mystery, the man was provided with a living answer.

The man, eager to meet a living proof of this kind of existence, decided to approach the boy.

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The soft taps of weather worn boots alerted the boy of an approaching person. Though his back was turned to the intruder, the boy already judged the distance between him and the other person. Not only that, he already laid out the best course of action in this situation. Perceiving the stranger as a threat, the boy began his assault.

The rifle hanging from his shoulder was too cumbersome to be swung and fired, and the interloper has a higher chance of reacting first and filling the boy with hot lead. The youngster decide to quickly toss his rifle aside, hoping to distract the enemy for a moment. Dashing swiftly in the opposite direction, the young lad then simultaneously pivoted towards the unfamiliar man while unsheathing a small knife. The stranger just about unholstered his pistol and adjusted his aim, but that was all the moment needed for the boy to roll in the dirt and mount an attack. The boy hoped to stab the man in the groin inflicting maximum pain, but things didn't go as planned.

The stranger brought his knee up, knocking the knife from the boy's grip. The larger man tried to club the agile boy with the butt of his pistol, but his opponent caught the object in his grip. Both adversaries struggled for control of the weapon; however, the stranger overpowered the child, shoving him away.

The boy didn't bother to resist then, as any advantage in the situation shifted on the favor of his larger foe. This enemy is physically stronger, and has a benefit of a weapon. He's also obviously well trained in combat, with skills that probably exceed those of himself.

Though the stranger has a clear shot, the boy was curious that the man hasn't pulled the trigger yet. So the young lad bided his time and merely crouched on the dirt, all the while keeping his eye on the foreigner in case he makes a mistake.

A mistake that the boy won't hesitate to capitalize.

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The mercenary was once again mesmerized by the young warrior's eyes. A shining gray in color, the man observed, now that he was closer; and untainted by any emotion.

Those eyes staring at him reminded the older man of a fierce tiger, ready to pounce at any moment. The analogy didn't go unnoticed, as the hired gun saw first hand the fighting prowess the child displayed earlier. The mercenary decided to approach this matter cautiously. Of course, he'd always take precedence with his own life.

"Hey, take it easy kid." the merc tried to talk down the child, however he still kept his gun pointed toward him. His voice sounded rough and callous, and probably agitated the young fighter further, a testament to the violent, take no prisoners lifestyle of the hired killer. He felt like he's dealing with a cornered animal.

The mercenary merely sighed when the juvenile soldier indeed tensed at his words.

"Look, I'm not here to kill you, but you'll be really forcing my hand if you keep up this act. I suggest you calm down if you don't want a bullet between your eyes." the man stated dangerously. No matter how he slices it, his words would still turn out to be threatening.

"What happened here?" asked the foreigner.

The kid remained stoic and unflinching. Truth be told, the mercenary didn't need any answers for that question, he only needed to ask it to make the kid lower his guard. His patience was being tried though, and the mercenary wasn't known for his patient behavior.

The man fired his pistol at the little boy, the report of the gun echoing in the valley and scattering birds into various directions. However, killing him was the farthest thing from the mind at the time.

The bullet grazed the boy's cheek, drawing a line of red that began to trickle with blood.

Though, ordinarily, people would have at least flinched from the gunfire, the man was astonished that the boy still kept his composure and didn't so much as blink thoughout the exchange. The man's respect for the child increased further at this development.

The many surprises that the kid kept making an impact on him made the hired gun chuckle. Soon, the chuckle increased in intensity, until it finally resounded into a full blown, maniacal laughter.

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It was perplexing for the boy to hear the crazy man laugh at nothing in particular, while having a gun pointed at his face. His enemies would just get it over with and kill anyone at gun point.

The peculiar behavior of the stranger made the young fighter forget his earlier commitment of charging the enemy when given the chance. This momentary lapse in judgement allowed foreigner the prospect to continue speaking, after his mirth finally subsided of course.

"That's some guts you displayed kid, standing up to me, not flinching when I shot you. Heh." the mercenary finally lowered his gun before continuing.

"I'm not here to hurt you boy, I was just passing through. The smoke around here made me curious. And with good reason, it seems." the unfamiliar man took out a cigarette and lit it.

Though the stranger has his guard down, the youngster had a sliver of doubt, if the man in front of him is indeed an enemy.

"Must've been one hell of a battle." the foreigner said before blowing a wisp of smoke. "Hey, can you even talk, kid?" the mercenary asked.

The child merely gave an imperceptible nod. The action annoyed the soldier of fortune a bit, but he controlled his temper.

"Che, so what's your name then, kiddo?" the merc asked in an impatient tone.

Where that sliver of doubt preceded, another sliver -this time trust, soon followed. The young lad decided to talk to the man.

"I... have no name." the boy started. The hired gun noticed him looking around the field -the place of those who have fallen- while he was speaking.

"But my... comrades..." continued the lad, unsure with articulating his words properly. "... refer to me as... Kashim." the child finally finished in a cherubim voice.

"Hmph. I see." the man blew more smoke before asking another question. "Are they all your comrades?" refering to the pile of corpses being burned.

"Yes." Kashim simply answered.

Judging from the remains of the clothes those bodies once bore, as well as the child's garments, the mercenary concluded that they were part of a resistance from the Russian invasion.

The stranger finally dropped the spent cigar, blowing one last puff of smoke. He decided it was a good time to introduce himself.

"My name... is Gauron. And let me just ask you this." Gauron stepped closer to Kashim. This prompted the young warrior to once again take precaution. Gauron stopped a few meters from the boy before crouching in front of him. His gaze seem to pervade throughout Kashim's being, delving deep into his thoughts.

"Do you think... you have a future here?" the question surprised the boy though it was relatively simplistic, yet somewhat vague. However, Kashim wasn't able to think of an answer to the inquiry.

"Heh. Didn't think so." Gauron smirked when the boy didn't reply after a while. "Well then, do you think it's necessary for you to stay here?"

"My comrades need... I'm needed in this place."

While Kashim was able to give an answer this time, his response lacked any sort of certainty. Gauron took this opportunity to assail him with further doubts.

"Do you really believe that? Look around you. Everyone you've known here is dead. What purpose do you have then? Are you really standing up to your own convictions?" the barrage of questions raised various doubts within the young warrior's impressionable mind.

"I..." the child started to affirm his decisions. But the older man started to make sense in some way.

Gauron noticed the luster -that beautiful luster- in the boy's eyes starting to fade. No! He won't allow that spark to disappear, such magnificence should not be so easily lost. Gauron finally decided it was time to strike the final blow.

"What... do you really want?" asked the mercenary to the confused boy plaintively. Gauron was pleased when that gleam in Kashim's eyes slowly returned.

"I just..." the young soldier replied uncertainly at first. But soon that assertion in his eyes returned, stirring his spirit into life.

Gauron anxiously held his breath, waiting for that moment the boy would realize his true importance in the grand scheme of things. Few people have ever had a chance to do so, those rare few only grasping it when they are in the brink of death. To see this comprehension play itself out in the young one's eyes, well, it was worth more than any riches the mercenary could aqcuire in many lifetimes.

"I just... I want to live!" the child-warrior's voice resounded throughout the valley, striking at the core of Gauron's very being.

Gauron took a few moments to catch his breath. Kashim looked like he was doing the same thing, albeit looking more strained than his older counterpart. His eyes were not only determined now, but were also unfocused.

A crazed grin broke out of Gauron's face for a moment, unnoticed through Kashim's haze filled orbs.

"Heh. A good answer. That's a very good answer." Gauron approached the unsettled boy slowly.

"You wish to live, yet it isn't really necessary for you to... 'live here', right?" the words rolled smoothly off the mercenary's tongue.

Kashim took a moment to ponder the man's question. Amidst his confusion, the older man's words seem to make sense in some way, and pretty soon the young fighter was inclined to agree with him.

"I guess... you're right." Kashim whispered, more to himself instead of an answer to Gauron's question.

"There is a larger world out there... for you to thrive in, boy. You don't need to confine yourself in this miserable place." Gauron explained to the naive youngster.

The little boy's attachment to the place was rooted very deeply, but Gauron was slowly severing this connection through his machinations of the lad's immaturity.

"You may continue do what you wish, but... just not here. Your future here is bleak." the mercenary persisted.

By now, Kashim was silently contemplating the options that the mercenary provided. Indeed, the boy knew very little else other than the violent lifestyle he had been living, but abandoning it seem to somehow make him... incomplete... left without function. However, the stranger said he wouldn't deprive him of his purpose.

"This... is what I am used to." Kashim began. "I don't want to leave this place because I wouldn't know what to do then. I'd feel... worthless."

"Well then... why don't you come and join me, see what we can do about that?" Gauron said while holding his hand out for Kashim to take. "You won't find out 'til you try, right?" the older man had an arrogant smirk on his face, fully confident with his declaration.

Kashim looked at the hands the foreign man is holding out to him. It represents stepping into the unknown; a drastic change for something else, something which may potentially destroy him, or elevate him to greater heights. It is a risky gamble, and his fate is ultimately in the hands of the person he is facing now.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kashim finally made his choice. He took a small step forward, then another, until he reached Gauron. He reached out his small hands onto the larger man's palms.

No words were exchanged, each understood the meaning of their action. Gauron, for a split second, gave a genuine smile for perhaps the only time in his life, satisfied with the decision the boy made. Finally, Gauron released the young lad, and stood up to return to his jeep.

"Let's get going, then." Gauron stated with finality, before heading towards his vehicle.

Kashim nodded, and followed a step behind the mercenary. He gave one last look at the valley he is leaving behind. A few tears shed itself, puzzling the young lad, never having expressed such deep emotions before. The landscape soon disappeared in a haze of dust, forcing Kashim to look forward.

Forward into his own future.

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**Author's Notes:** I'm neither a philosophy nor a psychology major, so forgive me if my philosophizing (Is that even a word?) doesn't seem to make sense, or if I didn't grasp Gauron's and Sousuke's psyche wholly (read: OOC). Also, do forgive me if the story pace is fast; to me it felt like it. Obviously, Sousuke joins Gauron in this story (hence altaverse, duh!), and thus deals with certain... possibilities... that this path takes. 

It was hard to turn that brief scene of "Gauron seeing Kashim's eyes" (FMP: The Second Raid, 2nd to the last ep methinks...), into a whole story without having specific details and circumstances, and then altering events to create another path, but here it is. Of course, I took a lot of liberties in creating this. :P

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this story. Submit a review; if you have any comments, suggestions, criticisms, corrections, etc.


	2. Chapter 1 Part 1

**Disclaimer:** Full Metal Panic doesn't belong to me. This story wasn't made for profit. Blah blah blah... ON WITH THE STORY!

"words"

_'thoughts'_

**Note:** Some parts of this story may deal with matters most people would certainly be uncomfortable with, what with recent events that have transpired; 9/11, Iraq, North Korea, etc.

Remember, this is a total work of FICTION. You should then keep an open mind when reading this story. If you don't even bother to keep an open mind, the answer is simple: Stop reading this fic.

Thank you.

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A couple of years have passed since Gauron took Kashim under his wing. The brutal mercenary has taught his pupil well in the art of war. Kashim became even more proficient in both armed and unarmed combat under Gauron's tutelage. He also learned how to operate an Arm Slave, as well as various military vehicles. Equipment maintenance, explosives training, and intelligence gathering were also included in his training regiment.

Kashim learned all these things when Gauron subjected him into a terrorist training program. Gauron did give the boy one excellent piece of advice before he underwent the training: _"Don't be a martyr."_

This advice made Kashim disregard certain instructions regarding suicide bombings and the like. However, his knowledge of those methods meant he knew what to look for when someone would plan to do that kind of operation.

Besides those mentioned, Gauron also taught the boy the subtle principle of dealing with... questionable enterprises; arms deals, black markets, illegal drugs and firearms, and especially mercenary work, to name a few. Every shady deal Gauron made was another lesson for Kashim, which he promptly absorbed like a sponge.

Ironically, even if the juvenile soldier was surrounded by such corruption, Kashim never got into any vices. Gauron would promptly shoot the head of anyone who would mess with his apprentice, without hesitation. In an event that the youngster tried to pick a habit on his own volition, Gauron would strand him on a desert island without supplies. Kashim caught on quick and never touched anything that his mentor considers as 'poison'.

Every time Gauron went places to conduct his 'business', his protege was with him. Countries with extreme conflict were their usual destinations. They provide firearms, drugs, supplies, intel, and even their own military expertise to the highest bidder within those nations; which are usually plagued with civil wars, ethnic cleansing, sectarian violence, coup d'etat plots, political assassinations, etc.

Of course, this situation forced Kashim to learn other languages to a certain extent. Gauron, however, compelled the boy to give Japanese a priority for some unknown reason. He also has some rudimentary skills in English, while he is still struggling with other languages.

Though Kashim was learning quickly for someone his age, he still does not have the full expertise of someone like Gauron. Kashim only did a few solo missions; and the rest of the time, he would be a supporting element for his mentor, assisting him in certain tasks at hand, or generally watching Gauron's back from turncoats.

Their line of work, if it can be considered as an occupation, is a very risky proposition indeed. Under their unspoken partnership, both persons benefitted from each other. Gauron was able to successfully execute his plans with his protege's help, while Kashim learned the tricks of the trade from the mercenary instructor; and the reward is split between them.

Kashim may not realize it, but Gauron's primary motivation for taking the boy under his wing isn't solely about the money. No, it was something more long term, a deeper aspect in their bond that Gauron sees fit to be fulfilled. It his fervent hope that Kashim would inherit Gauron's legacy; his mark left to the world, his wishes to be realized, within this boy that shows so much promise. And Gauron would be the guiding hand in this child's path.

Unknown to both Gauron and Kashim though, their rising infamy attracted the attention of an emerging organization, who pose a keen interest in their skills to be of use in their future plans.

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**Eyes of a Sinless Warrior**

_A Full Metal Panic altaverse fanfic by Fatherz_

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Inside a safehouse at an unknown location, a young man with dark, messy hair and cold, grey eyes was busily cleaning a field stripped pistol. The young teen was so focused on his task that he almost didn't notice a man enter the premises. Almost.

Reacting with pure instinct, the young man drew a knife from its sheath beside him, and threw it in the general direction of the door. The brunette teen didn't even bother to spare a glance at said direction.

After a dull thud of steel driving into wood, followed by silence, a harsh reprimand eventually erupted within the cramped lodging.

"Good to see your reflexes are still good, Kashim. But if you ever do that to me one more time, I'll shoot your damn, fucking balls off!" the older man threatened to the boy, who was still sitting and cleaning his sidearm. He currently has his head tilted to the right, with the knife partially embedded to the door, a few strands of hair snipped at the point of impact.

"Sorry." Kashim deadpanned, not looking the least bit sorry at all. The young merc knew that if it was anyone other than Gauron who entered that door, they'd be dead. It wasn't like strangers belonged in this place anyway. In the event that it was his mentor, well, the boy knew the older merc wouldn't fall for such a simple act.

Gauron pulled the knife from the entrance and approached Kashim. He didn't bother to remove his thick, heavy coat tinged with snow; they won't be staying here for long. He pulled an envelope from beneath the folds of his attire.

"We have an assignment." Gauron placed the envelope on top of the table right where Kashim was finishing with his task.

This garnered the full attention of the boy. He opened the folder and gave the contents a once over. Kashim already knew the older man read those files before he arrived. While Kashim was busy absorbing every bit of info about the mission, Gauron was preparing what few possessions they had for the journey.

"We'll leave soon." Kashim's mentor reminded the boy. He had already shouldered his belongings and was just about to head for the door.

"One minute." replied the younger of the two in a dreary tone. Kashim began to put back together the pistol he had disassembled, while simultaneously taking in every detail in the file. He had done the process so many times, he could probably do it blind folded with only one hand.

And he did do it a rare few times.

Kashim finished the reassembly first in less than half a minute. After putting the handgun in his holster, he grabbed his meager belongings stored in a small duffel bag. Still busy reading the file, he went towards the exit where Gauron is presumably waiting for him in their vehicle. Stepping out into the unforgiving cold, Kashim saw that his trainer was already in the large truck waiting for him.

Gauron was just about to light a cigarette when Kashim approached. After lighting his cigar, Gauron offered the still flickering lighter to the boy. The younger mercenary obliged by placing the documents over the flame. He then threw the burning files into a nearby trash can, having memorized with great accuracy every facet of the mission.

Soon, both of them were departing south to the communist controlled nation of Northern China. The message from the envelope specified the meeting place there, and they also needed to make a rendezvous there to drop off military supplies. Currently, their huge truck has an equally huge payload of ordinance, enough to start a small war. Gauron assumed that would be the purpose of this shipment They also brought along two Arm Slaves, in case they needed heavy firepower for certain operations.

With such a long journey ahead of them, Kashim decided this would be a good opportunity to ask his mentor other details that are not on the mission profile.

"Our client... I've never heard of an organization like that existing." Kashim, however, subtly implied a sense of curiousity; even with such a rhetorical statement. There is a distinct possibility that this could be a sting operation planned by counter terrorist agencies. Both were no stranger to those operations, having avoided capture from such encounters by a hairsbreadth. However, Kashim's eyes didn't show any fear or anxiety at all.

"Hmph. There had been rumours within some circles I used to know; about an organization that initiated some regional conflicts, playing both sides while supplying their latest military hardware for combat testing. Some say they possess technology way ahead of our time, which is why we have such equipment like the Arm Slave, or the Palladium cold fusion reactor." Gauron started to narrate to the boy. Kashim was paying keen attention to him, also wondering about the origins of those said technology.

"Though these are just rumors, they have to come from somewhere. I think this group... Amalgam... really does exist." He stressed his point by holding up a plastic business card; which probably came from their client, Kashim realized.

"I never pegged you for a person who believes in rumors, Gauron." the young assassin told his fellow comrade in that frank, expressionless way of his.

_'That is so like him. Arrogant punk.'_ Gauron thought to himself. _'Then again, it can't be helped. I did train him, afterall.'_ The professional mercenary chuckled to himself at the notion of it.

Even though Kashim's eyes remained impassive, Gauron knew that quizzical face his student directed at him.

"It's nothing. Let's just say it's my gut instinct, Kashim." he answered to his charge. Kashim didn't bother to ask anything else throughout the duration of the journey, prefering to spend the time in silence.

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After a few days of travel through rough terrain, their transport finally arrived at a checkpoint manned by only a few soldiers. Along the way, they encountered border patrols and other checkpoints; several who left them alone when presented with identification provided by their benefactors, a few who had to be bribed, and some who were acquaintances or contacts of Gauron.

It was already past midnight when the truck arrived at a border checkpoint. An unfamiliar soldier flagged down the humungous vehicle. Gauron complied, and he began to converse with him in their native language. Kashim merely sat silently beside the more experienced man, letting him do all the talking.

"Hello there." Gauron greeted, somewhat nonchalantly in decent Chinese. The unknown private stiffly began the standard operating procedure for this situation.

"Identify yourselves; and state your destination, as well as the contents of the vehicle." addressed the soldier, paying keen attention to his own actions. The soldier just exuded the aura of a rookie, which he probably was.

Gauron merely gave his ID and passport -under a false name of course-, as well as documents pertaining to his cargo. While the soldier checked said papers Gauron thought about how easy it would be to get this finished, what with such an obvious amateur assigned to this task. The soldier, however, doesn't seem to share that sentiment.

"Sir, I need you to step out of the vehicle. Now." The soldier drove the point across by aiming his rifle at Gauron. The soldier was obviously very nervous by the way the rifle shook a bit as the soldier held it.

"Friend, that isn't necessary." Though Gauron knew he could take on the soldier easily, he decided to pacify the agitated rookie first. No need to cause a scene here, it wouldn't do their 'business' any good.

Kashim, on the other hand, mentally prepared himself in case the situation goes wrong. However, he still stayed put, not making any sudden moves; hoping the guard would be reasonable. Unfortunately, he wasn't.

"Get out of the truck! Your cargo looks suspicious. I need to personally see the contents of your vehicle." The soldier yelled haughtily, secured by the fact that he has a Kalashnikov pointed at them.

"Hey, hey... It's already says there that we're arms suppliers. I don't really see any problem." Gauron tried to talk some sense into the paranoid sentry from within the truck, but he's getting irritated by the other person's attitude.

"I see one problem, bastard; I don't believe you for one second! Damn, foreign filth!" The guard on duty spat out the words, obviously discriminating any outsiders.

"Look, perhaps we can settle this through... some other means." Gauron shuffled a thick wad of cash with the intent to bribe the guard. "I understand that this job doesn't pay much, huh? We can arrangefor something..."

Gauron never got to finish speaking. The Chinese lookout fired a warning shot, before ordering both men to come out with their hands behind their head.

Muttering a string of intelligible profanities -not in Chinese, of course- Gauron grudgingly stepped out of the truck fixing the soldier with a very intimidating glare. Kashim emulated his instructor's actions and disembarked as well, minus the stare down.

The gunfire also alerted the rest of the sentry to investigate the matter. Soon, the vehicle is surrounded by more than a dozen Chinese soldiers. One soldier approached the suspicious sentry, inquiring about the shots fired in a very agitated voice.

"What the hell is going on here?" asked one the newly arrived troops.

"Heh! I believe these two are smuggling weapons illegally." the suspicious sentry explained. He gave the inventory to the soldier, who started to leaf through it, before trying to remove the tarp covering the truck.

"Hey! Give me a hand here!" ordered the arrogant soldier. The rest of the troops obeyed, uncovering the canvass, and revealing a huge payload of weapons.

Racks of assault rifles, rows of rocket propelled grenades, boxes of fragmentation grenades, cases of plastic explosives, and crates full of various ammunition littered the expanse of the large transport. What drew the most attention, however, was the pair of Arm Slaves designated with the model name RK-92 or more commonly known to these soldiers as 'Savages'.

Though their country is able to manufacture Arm Slaves, and their military has a plethora of these machines within their arsenal, it was the first time these soldiers saw one up close. It was quite a long distance from any form of civilization here. Although the Savages were in a kneeling position, its massive bulk provoked intimidation among the ranks.

"Umm... I think these papers check out and... woah..." At this moment, the soldier rechecking the documents saw the two gigantic Arm Slaves, quickly forgetting about examining the files in favor of gaping at the heavy machinery.

"What? Let me see that! These have to be fakes! They have to be!" Furiously taking the documents from his cohort's grasp, the agitated sentry searched for anything to undermine the legality of the document. He knew he had to turn this into a situation that would provoke a controvesy, leading to the arrest of these two lowlifes, and ensuring that he gets promoted or at least tranferred to another station, preferably away from this cold, miserable, and boring post. Indeed, he was that desperate.

In truth, the documents were actually falsified. However, it was just so well-made that these soldiers didn't have the know-how, or the technology currently in their possession to ascertain that. Nevertheless, the sour faced sentry found a tiny loophole to turn this circumstance to his advantage.

"Hah! You don't have the authority to supply Arm Slaves! Men, arrest them now!"

_'Damn it. Fucking asshole. Well, I guess he left me with no choice, arrogant prick.'_ Gauron thought to himself as the troops began to surround them. They didn't bother with the boy very much, it wasn't like he was any threat to any of them.

In retrospect, the soldiers made two mistakes by inciting this incident. One, they didn't know who they were dealing with; and two, they underestimated the capabilites of these two people. Especially the boy. It was this mistake that will cost them very dearly.

Gauron feigned dropping to his kness, but he gave one small glance at Kashim. At once the boy knew what to do.

Since Kashim had his hands behind his neck , it was simple for him to remove the turban he was still wearing. What the soldiers didn't know was that it concealed a flash grenade, which detonated as it hit the ground.

The flash blinded the crowd, excluding Kashim and Gauron who quickly shielded their eyes. As the troops were seeing spots at the moment, the young mercenary was already in motion. He dashed towards one of the Savages with a knife drawn, which the soldiers neglected to confiscate. A blunder that they won't have the opportunity to live through.

Kashim quickly slashed and stabbed the two men blocking his way. One howled in pain, trying to contain his disemboweled intestines; while the other gurgled blood, struggling to breathe with a deep gash in his neck.

The rest of the men tried to fire in his direction, but failed to hit him, the flash grenade still in effect.

Kashim sought refuge behind the truck, before climbing at the back of the Arm Slave. The armed men finally caught their bearings and opened fire at the Savage. Their small arms fire didn't have an effect on the mech's thick armor though. The arrogant soldier realized this though, and ordered the rest to cease fire. He also knew that the Savage can take a while to start itself, so he gave the boy an option. Holding a still composed Gauron at gunpoint, he issued demands at the young upstart piloting the Arm Slave.

"Boy! Get out of that machine, or I will kill this man! I'll give you ten seconds to come out, or I'll shoot!" Aside from this order, he also told one of his comrades to get some anti-armor rockets from their cache to destroy the mech, in case the boy still refused.

Gauron was still calm as ever, eager with the prospect of seeing the boy in action. He could have run to the Arm Slave as well when he had the chance, but he decided against it. It was an excellent opportunity to see how Kashim would deal with this kind of situation.

_'These bastards are in for it now.'_ he considered to himself, internally grinning a shark's grin at the expected slaughter.

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Kashim knew Chinese well enough to understand what the man was demanding, but he deigned to listen. He was aware of the weaknesses of the RK-92, most notable was the slow initiation of the systems in the machine.

Which is why he had the machine preset to not initiate the other systems he didn't need, stripping the AS down to visuals and basic movement only, while sacrificing safety systems in engine cooling, damage control, and fire control.

In addition, he installed an accelerator to the engine that acted like a nitro boost for the AS, which only takes five seconds to start. However, it only gave him thirty seconds of power, before the machine overheats, and becomes inoperable. Fortunately for Kashim, that thirty second window of opportunity is more than enough for him.

"Ten... nine... eight..." shouted the soldier currently restraining Gauron.

_'Three... two... one...'_ Kashim mirrored with his own quicker countdown. He was immediately rewarded with systems booting online, screens blinking, servos and hydraulics roaring to life. He then initiated a new countdown sequence, mentally clocking down the time limit of the booster.

_'Thirty... twenty nine... twenty eight...'_

Kashim made the Savage stand, its sensors flickering red. The panicking troops opened fire again, quickly forgetting the uselessness of their guns against the armored giant. The AS stomped on one man who got too close to it, splattering guts and blood under its heel.

_'... twenty two... twenty one... twenty...'_

The Savage fired its head mounted twin autocannons at the clumps of troops taking cover behind sandbags, which proved ineffective against the withering, high velocity barrage, leaving nothing but smears of red along the ground. Kashim now turned his attention towards the infantry bringing in the anti-armor rockets.

_'... sixteen... fifteen... fourteen...'_

One of the soldiers fired a rocket in blind alarm. The rocket missed the AS by a few meters giving the chance for Kashim to run towards them. He quickly kicked them before they could fire again, breaking their bones in the process and leaving them looking like deformed ragdolls.

_'... ten... nine... eight...'_

Kashim stalked the only man left, who had stopped counting down and opted to use Gauron as a human shield.

"Don't come any closer, or I'll kill him! I mean it!" The soldier desparately negotiated to the inhuman killing machine. And he wasn't thinking about the Arm Slave at that moment.

Gauron still looks unruffled by this ordeal. He decided to predict what his protege would try to do in this situation. In actuality, Gauron had no plans to struggle, even if it was within his capacity to disable his captor at that moment. _'Now... let's see how you'd handle this... Kashim. Would you kill him along with me? Or perhaps just let me handle it? C'mon, Kashim... I'm waiting.'_ He smirked to himself again for good measure.

_'... five ... four ... three...'_

Kashim quickly made up his mind. He feigned punching towards them, making the soldier scream in fright.

_'... two... one... zero.'_

The temporary boost the AS gained shut itself down, leaving it poised in a half kneeling position with its hand held a few meters above the ground, with Gauron just below it. The last soldier was nowhere to be seen.

"Kashim," Gauron finally uttered, looking up at the Savage the boy was piloting. "Why did you let him live?"

The hatch opened with Kashim stepping out of the mech. He had heard Gauron's question and chose to give him the logical answer.

"The power ran out." replied Kashim expressionlessly. Gauron merely shrugged at the ambigous answer, looking up at the soldier with his head pinched between the Savage's large fingers.

_'Such a feat of dexterity and skill can't be so easily done.'_ Gauron mused to himself. The man's situation looked really humorous, in a macabre sort of way.

Realizing his predicament, the only survivor of the incident began to frantically struggle and scream profanities at the two people responsible for it. A wet mark had appeared in his pants, owing it to the terror he felt during the boy's killing spree. He has never seen anyone so young slaughter so mercilessly, or had himself come so close to death. Though he shouldn't worry about that last part for long.

"Oi, you shouldn't be shaking and struggling too much. Your neck won't handle the stress and it'll snap off." Gauron ranted detachedly to the violently thrashing Chinese guard, who didn't bother listening to the supposed 'supplier'. Finally, it got to the point where the mercenary had his tolerance run out. He decided to give the bastard the same courtesy he extended to him. Unfortunately, it was with interest.

"Feh, what the hell. You're dead either way." Gauron shrugged, pulling a pistol from his overcoat; his intent obvious to the soldier's eyes, who spent the last seconds of his life begging for mercy. It didn't really do him any good since the mercenary he was pleading to isn't known for his sympathy, or sanity.

A couple of shots rang out, while Kashim looked on impassively. Gauron sighed in satisfaction, having released all his aggression on the poor fool.

"Whew! My, oh my. That felt so relaxing! Wouldn't you say so Kashim?"

"The Arm Slave... we won't be able to move it." Gauron's protege noted, almost to himself.

"Che, you're such a stick in the mud Kashim." commented Gauron while he pulled a cellphone from the folds of his coat. "I'll take care of that, or rather a... close acquaintance of mine will do it." he added before dialing a number and stepping off somewhere to probably get a good reception. Kashim wasn't able to discern anything from Gauron's conversation since then.

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Kashim roamed the battlefield for a bit, while Gauron made his call. He recalled that he dropped his turban, so the young merc headed for the direction where he left it. His steps were as methodical as his manner of taking lives; his footfalls rarely made any sound, and it barely disturbed the snow. Finally, he caught a glimpse of dirty white cloth amidst the pure white of snow. As Kashim was about to pick up the material, he noticed the drying blood covering his hands; the result of his knifework on two soldiers.

Taking a clump of snow from the ground, Kashim began to rub the cold, white substance between his hands. It didn't do the job as well as water, but it was enough. A sudden thought struck Kashim when he realized he was unconsciously doing this action.

Why was he even bothering to clean his hands first? It's not like the cloth is unsullied or anything; what would a few bloodstains matter when he picks up the faded and grimy fabric?

Dozens of thoughts rationalizing this act proved to be inadequate, leaving Kashim with the conclusion that the action itself is illogical. Kashim paused in midthought, asking himself why was he even worrying about such unimportant matters. However, staring at the pink tinged snow and the grimy headpiece invoked memories within the boy of his past; images that etched itself deep within his psyche leaving him numb inside.

It didn't really matter now, his hands were relatively stain free by the time he was done with the brief reminiscence. He abandonned all thought and just picked up the fabric, before heading for the truck. He noted the lapse in awareness, which he mentally reproofed as a sign of weakness.

Arriving at their transport, Kashim began the long and arduous task of covering the arsenal in canvass. Parading around the communist state with the vehicle's ordinance in plain view wouldn't sit well with the locals, or the Chinese law enforcement agency, so obviously the weapons need to be kept from prying eyes.

As he was in the process of concealing the contents of the large vessel, the mercenary trainee picked up a distinct, rhythmic hum with his combat hardened ears; a dull, but fast 'thuka-thuka-thuka' that increased in duration and intensity every passing second. He had heard this sound a few times during the conflict in Helmajistan; it was the sound of Soviet Hind attack helicopters before they rained fiery death over an unsuspecting mujaheedin camp.

Soon enough, a formation of choppers appeared over the treeline. As Kashim predicted, a pair of Mil Mi-25 Hind-E's took point. However, the lagging trio of flyers behind the two deadly choppers weren't additional attack helicopters that the young mercenary was expecting. No; these were bulging transport helicopters, identical in features with the Russian Mil Mi-26, dubbed as 'Halo'. The presence of these cargo copters made the boy curious though, that is until Gauron approached him.

"Well, well... It looks like they're here. That was fast." Gauron shielded his eyes against the cold, stinging winds as it was buffeted by the helicopters. His younger counterpart stared at the mercenary instructor with a quizzical look, to which Gauron supplied an answer.

"Heh. The 'friend' I called," said Gauron, who held up his cellphone for Kashim to see. " Though I didn't expect them to bring helicopters along, just to cart off the merchandise." he explained further to the boy. Kashim took the explaination without question and gazed at the Halo transports as they landed. However, Gauron was a bit more skeptical about this development.

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When he called his contact, he only requested the Arm Slave to be taken away, while they brought the commodities themselves to the designated area. While Gauron narrated the events that transpired in the border checkpoint, he just so happened to mention the name of the organization this shipment was for. His contact suddenly went silent and asked the mercenary to stay put, and also assured him that he will provide the transport within a few minutes.

Though Gauron maintained a non-hostile policy towards his contacts, beneficiaries, and clients, it doesn't necessarily mean those people would do the same to him. So Gauron approached this slight complication with a deep seated paranoia that has kept him alive all these years. He checked to see if his gun is loaded, unlocked the safety, then finally placed it back within the coat.

The trio of transports landed on a snowy clearing not far from the truck, while the two attack helicopters patrolled the surrounding perimeter. A high ranking Chinese officer stepped off the lead transport; sporting a well-pressed, dark green uniform with red trim beneath a black leather coat.

He headed towards Gauron, stamping the snow beneath him with worn leather boots. A pair of soldiers decked in black fatigues and full body armor flanked their leader. They were armed only with pistols holstered by their sides, but Gauron suspected these people didn't need any firearms in case conflict erupts between the two groups, as he observed they moved with the grace and lethality of a well trained close combat fighter.

Gauron cautiously approached the group with his young companion trailing. He noticed that his protege had picked up a Kalashnikov from one of the fallen soldiers, though he deceptively held the gun like an amateur struggling with a heavy weapon. Gauron knew for a fact that the boy used firearms with more recoil than that. He had to admit though, the boy knew how to play this deception game well.

_'Good to see that the boy's approaching this circumstance with SUCH care.'_ Gauron reflected offhandedly.

The two parties soon met at the midpoint, neither of them anywhere near their respective vehicles. A palpable feeling of uneasy tension hung in the air as both groups remained silent for what seemed like hours. Finally, the leader on the Chinese side broke the silence with narrowed eyes and a vague remark.

"You've had contact with... 'that group'... Gauron?" inquired the Chinese officer in heavily accented english.

"By that statement, you mean Amalgam?" replied the smirking mercernary.

"Ah, so you've had contact with them." Strangely enough, the Chinese superior's hard edged gaze somewhat relaxed, albeit it still contained a bit of smugness; the kind where a person knows something the other is ignorant about. Gauron was expecting something more along the lines of that person ordering his men to gun them down after reaching that conclusion.

"What about it, then? Will there be any... 'problems', General Chen?" gestured Gauron towards the other man's bodyguards. This prompted a reaction from his charge, who tensed up expecting another fight like before. However, the general's words seemed to portray the contrary.

"There will be no problems, if you'll just follow me." General Chen led the two towards one of the helicopters, while ordering the rest of his men on standby -this time sporting regular combat fatigues- to load the rest of the ordinance in the other choppers.

Gauron merely shrugged his shoulders, and decided to give his Chinese contact the benefit of a doubt. He gestured towards the boy to follow him, who obliged all too well while lowering his weapon.

"Well... This is certainly a curious turn of events. Don't you think so Kashim?" asked the adult mercenary as he walked beneath the din of the choppers.

"We should still be on guard, sensei. It is, after all, what you have taught me."

"Quite right, I did teach you everything you know. Who do you think you're talking to Kashim?"

The young mercenary didn't bother to answer that question; it was pointless and Gauron knew that fact too. Instead, the mercenary duo merely entered the lead transport, sitting alongside General Chen hoping to glean some information about their rather -aside from their name- anonymous client.

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**Author's Notes:** Well, here's chapter one.Or more like one half of it. Yes it's just part one for now since it was kinda getting long. Once again, comments and criticisms are very welcome!

A very special thanks to **_Capito Celcior_** for both reviewing the prologue and prereading this chapter.

Thanks also to **_aknut_**, **_Tacky76_**, and **_zerodark9_** for your reviews on the prologue.


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